


With Intent

by fallingintodivinity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Episode: s14e20 Moriah, Post-Season/Series 14, Sibling Incest, happy birthday sammy your big brother loves you so very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingintodivinity/pseuds/fallingintodivinity
Summary: On Sam Winchester’s thirty-sixth birthday, he kisses his brother for the very first time.





	With Intent

  

On Sam Winchester’s thirty-sixth birthday, he kisses his brother for the very first time.

Well – no, that’s not quite right. He vaguely remembers kissing Dean goodnight when they were kids, sloppy little pecks on his big brother’s smiling face as Dean tucked him into bed. This kiss, however…is _nothing_ like those.

So:

On Sam Winchester’s thirty-sixth birthday, he kisses his brother _with intent_ for the very first time.

 

***

 

He blames the zombies.

It’s only been a week since Chuck (damn him) had set an army of what felt like every single supernatural being Sam and Dean had ever fought on them. They had, with Castiel’s help, fought their way out of the initial crush and managed to make it back to the bunker; since then, small groups of monsters have been showing up outside the bunker every other day or so, trying their best to break in.

Between the three of them, they’ve easily dispatched the monsters that have shown up so far. Sam’s sure that Chuck could send enough supernatural creatures to overwhelm them any time he feels like it, but so far he seems to just be toying with them, and that’s just fine with Sam: it gives them time to research, and come up with a plan.

They’ve managed to get Rowena back to the bunker to help with the research – Sam had called her and they’d smuggled her in, between fighting waves of ghouls and wraiths and who knew what else.

Today, on Sam’s thirty-sixth birthday, it’s zombies. Sam _hates_ zombies.

He has a sneaking suspicion that Chuck sent them on purpose: a ‘ _happy birthday, fuck you very much’_ kind of thing.

The problem with zombies is, they are relatively easy to fight, but also very _messy_ to fight; by the end of it, both Sam and Dean are covered head-to-toe in zombie gunk but neither of them sustained any injuries, which means that Dean’s in a good mood.

It also means that Dean goes back to his room to shower all the zombie guts off then shows up in Sam’s room clad only in a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, golden skin damp and glistening and grinning happily as he smugly informs Sam about how he definitely took out at least _twice_ as many zombies as Sam did, gotta up your game Sammy, you’re getting slow in your old age.

Now, Dean half-naked in Sam’s room, hair all soft and messy and skin faintly pink and dewy from his shower, is already fucking with Sam’s willpower in ways he doesn’t want to acknowledge. He’s pretty sure ‘wanting your brother for more than half your adult life’ is not a thing he is supposed to feel, and yet here he is, fantasizing about yanking Dean’s towel off and getting his mouth on Dean’s cock, all while his brother is _standing right there_ , close enough to touch.

And Dean in a good mood, grinning and relaxed and yammering on about how much he enjoys killing zombies makes Sam want to grab Dean and kiss him senseless, because he loves his idiot of a brother _so fucking much_ it kind of makes his stomach hurt.

The combination of Dean being mostly naked in Sam’s room and Dean being all cheery and _adorable_ is, sadly, temptation so extreme that it shuts Sam’s conscious thought processes down and leaves him running on autopilot. He’s only human, and he’s been in love with Dean for more than a decade at this point – and oh yeah, God is trying to kill them, so this, this might be the only chance he ever has –

Before he even really realizes what he’s doing, Sam’s stepping forward into Dean’s space, cupping a palm over Dean’s jaw and tilting his brother’s face up. Dean’s confused, “Sam, what’re you – ” cuts off abruptly with a surprised grunt as Sam seals his lips over Dean’s.

Sam comes back to himself when Dean fists his hand tight in Sam’s shirt, and he flinches, bracing for a punch.

“Oh shit,” he mutters against Dean’s lips, drawing back with eyes wide and heart thudding unsteadily in his chest. “Shit, Dean, I’m so – ”

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” says Dean, gasping; his eyes are half-lidded and head tilted up, lips wet and swollen, his cock rapidly filling against Sam’s thigh.

“What?” Sam says dumbly, then, “oh!” as Dean says in mild reproach, “C’mon, Sammy – ”

Sam ducks his head to kiss Dean again with alacrity, swallowing Dean’s pleased moans.

 

***

 

There’s a knock on Sam’s bedroom door just as he and Dean reach the bed, almost tripping on Dean’s hastily discarded towel on the way. Sam’s shirt has joined Dean’s towel on the floor, although his jeans are still on.

The door opens, and Castiel pokes his head in. Sam is suddenly very glad that he's still got his jeans on.

“Sam, you and Dean should see this,” Castiel says in urgent tones. “Rowena found something that we think we can use to – ”

Dean yelps and scrambles to pull Sam’s comforter over his erect cock. His elbow accidentally goes into Sam’s ribs, and Sam goes flailing right off the side of the bed and sprawls gracelessly onto the floor.

“Ow,” he mutters.

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Finally. Although you two _could_ have picked a better time.”

Rowena peeks over Castiel’s shoulder, looking absolutely delighted. Dean glares at both of them and drags the comforter more firmly into his lap.

Sam pushes himself up off the floor with a groan, drags a hand through his hair and stares at Castiel bewildered. “What – but – you – you _knew_ about – ”

Castiel sighs. “Sam, Dean,” he says with exaggerated patience. “You both already know that angels can hear prayers. You also know that while prayers can be directed, pleas not sent to any specific angel may reach a…wider audience.”

He stares pointedly at Sam and Dean, who stare back at him blankly. Castiel’s eyes narrow in irritation.

“If I have to hear **one more** ‘ _oh God, Sammy_ ’ while you are ‘ _taking a shower_ ’” – he pauses to shoot Dean a glare before continuing – “or another ‘ _Jesus Christ, Dean_ ’ while you are ‘ _doing research_ ’” – he transfers the glare to Sam – “I will shoot both of you with Chuck’s gun myself.”

“But – but – that’s not how prayers _work_!” Dean complains loudly. His face is tomato red.

“Which one of us is the angel, Dean?”

Dean glares at said angel, and is right in the middle of taking a deep breath to start yelling at him when Sam hastily interrupts.

“Cas,” he says, and waits as his friend transfers a politely disinterested gaze to him. He’s hoping that he isn’t blushing as badly as the heat in his cheeks tells him he is, but one look at Cas’s raised eyebrow and Rowena’s smirk informs him otherwise. He clears his throat awkwardly.

“You had a question, Sam?” Castiel enquires calmly.

“How come you didn’t, uh, mention this before? And we’ve, um, met other angels before, and none of the others ever mentioned anything about – ”

“Yeah!” Dean agrees, nodding emphatically. “You’re just making this shit up,” he says accusingly.

“ _Why_ would I make this up,” Castiel says, looking pained. “I had to listen to _years_ of you two,” – he waves a hand between Sam and Dean, apparently at a loss as to how to best describe what exactly he’d overheard, which Sam _strongly_ feels is for the best – “ _pining_ for each other, you have no idea how irritating that is when you’re trying to actually get any work done.”

“We did not _pine_!” Dean protests.

Castiel ignores him. He clears his throat, not quite meeting either of their eyes. “Also, the other angels may not have told you so directly, but let me assure you, _everyone knew_.”

“Oh,” Sam mutters. Some of the things the other angels have said to him and Dean over the years are, disturbingly, starting to make a little more sense.

“Okay!” Dean says loudly. He points to Castiel, then Rowena. “Both of you,” he says. “Out.”

Rowena raises an eloquent eyebrow.

“Sam and I have a lot of _catching up_ to do.” Dean says pointedly. “Your research,” he says to Rowena. “Can it wait an hour?”

“It’ll keep,” Rowena says quickly and Castiel promptly turns an outraged look on her. Rowena beams brightly at him, then turns to Dean.

“Can I watch?” she asks. “Samuel does have such lovely…assets.”

“No!” Dean growls. Sam yelps as his brother yanks him close and smacks a broad hand possessively over his ass. “Sam’s ass…ets are _mine_.”

“Selfish,” Rowena sniffs.

Castiel sighs sadly. “I once led armies, and now I’m stuck trying to save the world with _you_ three. Where did I go wrong?”

Rowena pats his arm consolingly. “Come, Castiel,” she purrs. “I’m sure we can find something to occupy ourselves with while Sam and Dean are…busy.”

Castiel blinks, casting Rowena a mildly alarmed look.

“Research,” Rowena says, faintly reproving, and leads him out of the room.

 

***

 

Once the door shuts behind Rowena and Castiel, Dean turns back to Sam, grinning as he shoves the comforter aside, beautifully naked and aroused, and crawls on hands and knees over to where Sam’s standing by the side of the bed, smiling down at him. He pulls the zipper on Sam’s jeans down and unceremoniously shoves Sam’s jeans and underwear down over his hips.

“Happy birthday, Sammy,” he says cheerfully just before his plush lips close around Sam’s cock.

Sam moans happily. “Best birthday _ever_.”

  

 

End.

  


End file.
